


Sweet and Juicy

by GulJeri



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bantering, Flirting, M/M, Melon - Freeform, distracted doctor, fun things, naughty lizard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8825968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GulJeri/pseuds/GulJeri
Summary: Julian explains to Garak that his outfit resembles a watermelon.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrs260](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs260/gifts).



> For Mrs.260 for being very kind to me, and inspired by a post from vulcannic, and also for gplusbfics who asked someone to 'make it so'.

Garak had been going on, and on, about Cardassian music. He was comparing the work of Elar Morat to the work of Vilara Vokel. 

“I find it quite interesting to compare their works in relation to gender and gender expectations in Cardassian society. You see, women are generally assumed to far better in the sciences and mathematics, while men tend to go into the military, political, or creative areas. But you see music is both a free and creative device and also very mathematical—so it defies such gender rules! And yet it reinforces them!” Garak said, pitching his voice up eagerly, and really getting into the conversation. Julian was resting his chin on his knuckles and staring at Garak with a somewhat confused expression. He had yet to respond, not even a noise or grunt to indicate that he was still tracking the conversation.

“Morat's music is flowing and free and reflects a very creative nature while Vokel's compositions are completely mathematical and structured in ways that—” Garak paused and tilted his head to the side, mouth open, waiting for Julian to even take notice that he wasn't speaking, “you're not interested in this conversation at all, are you?”

Garak tugged his napkin out of the collar of his shirt and tossed it down onto his finished plate.

“What? Oh—no it's quite fascinating! I'm just a little... distracted, I'm afraid,” Julian said.

Garak made a show of glancing around.

“There doesn't seem to be a buxom young woman hovering near to our table. Whatever has gotten you so distracted? Do you no longer find my conversation to be... ssstimulating?” Garak gave Julian a slow blink while he waited for the doctor's response.

“It's your outfit, Garak,” Julian said.

Garak lifted his ridges subtly and his eyes grew a little wider. He laughed a sonorous laugh.

“My dear doctor—you're not about to make a fashion statement, are you?” Garak's eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Yes, I am,” Julian said, “your outfit looks like a watermelon.”

Garak glanced down at his shirt, smoothed his hands over the vest, and tugged at one of his sleeves.

“It looks like what, dear?”

“A watermelon,” Julian repeated, “I'll show you.”

Garak watched Julian's lanky legs carry him to the replicator and then back to their table again. The doctor sat a plate down onto the table with a wedge of something bright, and wet, and vibrantly pink. Black little things that Garak recognized easily as seeds were spotted throughout the fleshy part and the bottom had a curved rind that was striped with light and dark shades of green.

“Oh,” Garak regarded the melon, “there is a similarity. What an interesting coincidence. May I try it?” His curious gray fingers hovered over the dripping wedge.

“Of course!” Julian urged, “I'd be fascinated to see what you think of it. It's very sweet, and juicy.”

“Then it doesn't only have something in common with my clothing,” Garak said, giving Julian an impish little smirk.

“And what does that mean?” the doctor wondered aloud.

Garak used a finger to slide the plate towards himself. He lifted his knife and fork and considered attacking it that way, then thought it best to tuck his napkin back into his collar to keep the juice from staining if it dribbled.

“We usually eat it with our hands,” Julian said, “there's no need to be fussy about it. Just pick it up by the rind and take a big bite of the pink part.”

The doctor folded his hands and leaned forward grinning so widely that all the dimples and lines in his face appeared alongside the corners of his mouth.

Garak lifted the melon and took a bite. Then another, and another.

“It seems to agree with you,” Julian said.

“It's wonderful,” Garak agreed, “my goodness—it reminds me of some of the succulents we eat, but none of those are as sweet. I wonder if I could grow some of these if I saved the seeds. But they are replicated... hm,” he wondered, as he plucked a few of the black seeds from the tender flesh and sat them aside. 

“You should take them to Keiko. She could probably examine them and tell you if they'd be viable or not,” Julian said, “but then again, maybe you could do that on your own. You are a man of many hidden talents and your resourcefulness never ceases to amaze me.”

Garak practically beamed.

“Ah! Thank you, my dear. But now if you please, I would rather finish this delightful melon,” Garak said.

“Far be it from me to distract my lunch mate from eating with copious doses of conversation,” Julian said, rolling his eyes.

He watched with an amused little smile as Garak took another bite of the melon, and the juice dripped down over his chin ridges.


End file.
